There are 499 Palladinians, and I will be the one to complete them, I will be the Chosen One - Hero making his sacred vow

Some people complain when bad things happen to them. They think “why now?” like there exist a good moment to have bad things happen to you. Take for example this bad thing; Losing all of your money on the first day in a strange town where you don’t belong. That is, usually a bad thing. Yet somehow, trough incredible luck, it wasn’t. In fact it was the best thing that ever happened to Garvin. If it never happened, he wouldn’t have a job, housing and a generally comfortable life. And he certainly wouldn’t be taking a bath right now in one of the most luxurious houses in Greed.

Garvin was in a tub so big, you could almost drown a cow in it. Garvin smiled by the idea of dragging a cow all the way up the stairs just to drown it in a bath. He poured some more hot water over his back and smiled.

‘Ooh, this is it,’ he said with his eyes closed. He smelled of lavender, the whole place smelled of lavender. Never had there been a moment where Garvin was as relaxed as right now. Oh, he still had stress, being an apprentice to Maegis and his merchants guild meant he had responsibilities. But the upsides greatly outnumbered the bad sides. He had to watch and learn, to count and write accounts. He had to talk to proper people, who spoke properly and smelled properly. And they properly answered his proper questions. It was.. Brilliant!

Today he didn’t have to talk to others though, he just had to tend a shop. The shop was in a smaller alley, where not that many people passed. Ammelid was the name of the shop. The owner (after the shop was named) was an old man Garvin had met a few times the last month, he seemed alright. And at the end of the day, he could go to the theatre and talk with his peers about heroes and stories. They all wanted to read his report on ‘The Battle of the Brand.’ Maybe it would even become a play.

Garvin thought of his old friend. He would love this, he thought. He never quite understood why Alfred was in Woodholm anyways. This city right here, this is where it was happening. They could drink together whilst reading a book. Go to see theatres. Talk to actors. Garvin smiled again and thought, when he was a full-fledged guildmember, to invite Alfred over. He opened his eyes when he heard a voice speak. ‘Master Garvin, you are expected at Ammelid in one hour.’

‘Right, I am just drying myself!’ he yelled back at the maid.

About an hour passed, when Garvin finally walked into the shop. Ammelid was there waiting with a frown. The grey old man sniffed and nodded. ‘So, ready?’ He was not an appreciator for smalltalk.

‘Yes, sir,’Garvin said. He rubbed his hands like washing them as he looked around. ‘I am ready.’

‘I want nothing to be reported stolen, and you write everything down. Who comes in, how long they stay, what they buy and how they act, you understood?’

‘So it’s like a writing exercise. I got this, sir.’

‘No, its like a “do what I say or you shall regret it” kind of exercise. Tending a shop isn’t a game.’ He stooped behind the counter and popped back up with a heavy, leather-bound book.

‘This book contains the prices of things.’ The book fell on the counter with a loud thud. ‘Stick to it.’

‘Do you mean that, you will leave me alone?’ Garvin asked.

‘It means I will be just a few streets away, in the Second Wind. So if you need me, you close the shop, lock the door and run to the tavern as fast as you can, understood?’

‘But what if I have questions?’ Garvin asked.

‘Then try your best to have none.’ He simply said.

‘But,’ Garvin stammered for a whole minute, while Ammelid grabbed his coat and walked outside, pretending not to hear him.

‘Remember, the Second Wind!’

As the door shut, a silence befell the store. Garvin was left and no “but” in the world would make the old man come back.

He swallowed and started to pace around the shop. ‘I just need to be careful, I can do this. Come on. What do we need? The book!’

Garvin walked over to the book with all possible items and prices. Apparently, there were already fifty items that started with an a. He didn’t even know fifty items starting with that letter.

Then he went over the shelves and cases. The store had many books, from historic accounts all the way to songbooks, like the one of Counting Ravens.

Garvin also inspected the backroom, that place had all the items that the store had bought. And some old crates filled with junk.

This is too much for me, Garvin thought. And kept on thinking, until the door opened for the first time.

‘Welcome to Ammelid’s what can I do for you, madame?’ he said, leaning on the counter, trying to make a capable impression.

A tall woman wearing an expensive blue dress walked in the store, carrying something heavy. She held her head up at such an angle that he could see her large nostrils. Her steps sounded like horse hooves on the street.

‘My clumsy husband broke this family ornament, I therefore want to sell it for what its worth.’ She said as she brought forth a kind item Garvin never seen before. She placed it on the counter and Garvin could hear a sound inside the thing that foretold the damage wasn’t minimal. The only problem was, he had no idea what it was. His hands felt sweaty on the desk.

‘So?’ the woman asked.

‘This… is not easy.’ Garvin said after long moments of silence. He tried to look intelligent but had no idea where he was going with this. He picked it up and shook it closely to his ear.

‘What do you mean? I just want to sell it.’ She responded. Her heavy perfume started to take over the entire shop. ‘Do you buy these things?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Garvin said. ‘Certainly we buy this beautifull..’

‘Clock.’ She filled in.

‘Yes.’ Garvin had seen many special items over the few months he worked for Maegis, even clocks. Though this one he could barely recognise.

‘Sorry, but where is Ammelid? I think he can help me better. Is he in the back?’ the woman asked.

‘He is not here, for the moment,’ Garvin said. Not sure if he should calm her down or quickly search in this book for a clock that resembled hers.

‘Ammelid! Ammelid, dear, are you there?’ she yelled to the back.

‘Madame, he is not here. But if you give me a minute, I will find out how much this clock is worth.’

As Garvin went trough the book, she grabbed the clock in one, quick swoop.

‘Madame, I am sure I can help you.’ Garvin said.

‘No, that is fine, I shall come back tomorrow, unless you will be here as well.’

Garvin felt a pinch of anger.

‘Madame, I just have to look it up in this book. I can answer you in a minute.’ His eyes scanned the C chapter while the woman sighed audible.

‘There, I have it!’ Garvin exclaimed triumphant. ‘But it depends on the damage,’ he added disappointedly. ‘Do you want to leave it here, and come back tomorrow? I am sure we will have a satisfying answer for you then, madame.’

‘I could sell this to five other shops, and I brought this here, which was clearly a wrong decision.’

Garvin stepped from behind the counter. ‘Please madame, I can help you.’

‘I think you can’t.’

‘At least let me help you carry it,’ Garvin said.

‘Don’t touch it!’ she said, whilst walking backwards.

‘I can-’

‘Don’t!’

‘But-’

With the back of her foot, she kicked the door open. And with the front she slammed the door shut, all while holding the heavy clock. Garvin noticed a little boy waiting her. The woman said something to him and the boy turned around and gave Garvin an angry look.

Garvin sighed, as he closed the inventory. He took out his book and wondered if he should write this down. This could give him a bad name. But then again, if the woman did know the old man personally.. Eventually Garvin decided it was honesty that would help the most. He wrote it exactly as it happened. Not even denying him not recognising the item.

A few more customers came and went, with other questions and items. A few of them bought some books, which made Garvin feel confident again. But then he realised the books of his favourite writer were worth less than a loaf of bread. The sun turned around and the alleyway became a shadowy place.

Guards patrolled there often, in pairs of three. Garvin didn’t know if it should make him feel safe or the opposite. All that time the old owner did not show up. He should be leaving by now, the people at the theatre waited for him, he thought. But he couldn't leave this place unattended either. So he decided to wait some more. And more. Until he had company.

Garvin started to light some oil-lamps when a cloaked figure stopped in front of the shop. He quickly glimpsed left to right, then entered the shop. Garvin somehow hoped the guards would pass again soon.

‘How can I help you, sir?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, so I want to sell this.’ The stranger pulled a giant sword out of seemingly nowhere. ‘Sword.’

Garvin flinched backwards. ‘Woah!’

The stranger placed the sword on the table and peered backwards.

‘So?’

‘Eh. I will need to ask the book. What kind of sword is this?’ he asked as he hoped all possible swords would be found under S.

‘Bastard.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘The sword. Its a bastard sword. See?’ the stranger picked it up again and held it in front of Garvin. He seemed quite skilled with it, holding it with great ease. ‘Not a longsword, because the hilt is too short to be one.’

‘Aha, please place it down, sir.’ Garvin said as he gulped and checked the inventory.

‘So, what’s it worth?’

It was the first one on the list. Bastardsword; New, decent quality 70 gold pieces. Used, good quality 30 gold pieces, used bad quality 10 gold pieces.

Garvin stared from the book to the sword, back to the book.

‘Can you tell me something about its quality?’ He honestly asked.

‘Oh, this?’ the man said as he grabbed the weapon yet again. ‘This is a masterfully crafted, perfectly new bastardsword. Just feel the balance of this thing.’ He held it with one stretched arm, pointing it towards the wall. ‘It’s skillfully sharpened. This, my friend, is a work of art.’

‘Oh, I see.’ Garvin looked in the chest where Ammelid told him the coins were. He opened the chest while he could hear the stranger swing his sword at invisible enemies and compliment the sword. It made all his body-hair shoot up, like a stepping on a rake. He counted eighty coins, and just as he popped his head back up, showing the stranger the coin, three guards passed. Garvin looked at the three, as they stared back with a bedazzled expression. The stranger was still swinging the sword around. Garvin could literally see the moment the guards scrambled their thoughts together and went on to burst open the door.

‘Put the sword down!’ they yelled in unison.

‘Woah, dudes! Calm down!’ the stranger said as he released the sword. It clanged on the wooden floor.

The guards did not calm down however, and pushed his face down against the counter. The other one kept his blade at an inch from his back, ready to go stabby stabby.

‘Dude! Tell them I was just selling this sword!’

Garvin looked at the man, his eyes squint as he drooled onto the counter, though it seemed he had seen the face before. ‘It is true, he was just selling this sword.’

‘Prove it.’

‘There is still money in the casket, no? Why would I steal only half of it?’ he said.

‘Because you must have thought about it, if you can answer it so quickly!’ the guard, pushing his face down said.

‘Gentlemen, really, there is no need for any of this. This is just a normal transaction. Please release him.’ Garvin suggested.

‘Cobble, the boy has no reason to lie,’ a guard said.

‘And where is Ammelid? And who are you anyways?’ Cobble said to Garvin.

‘He is in the Second Rest, I am his apprentice for today,’ Garvin said to the guard.

‘Dolomite, Shale, look at the back. See if you find something suspicious.’ Cobble said. He was clearly not ready to let these matters rest.

The two guards walked into the back of the shop. They opened the door, one of them took an oil-lamp with him.

‘Clear!’ they yelled in unison after a moment of stumbling around.

‘Whats your name, stranger.’ Cobble asked.

‘Rocky.’ The man said. He chuckled as more spit flew over the counter. Garvin made a face like smelling a turd.

‘Fine. But if we see you do anything else suspicious today, you will sleep in the cells tonight.’ Cobble said.

‘Come on, lets go.’ And with that, the three guards disappeared from the shop.

‘Phew, okay, lets get this over with. Here is the sword,’ Rocky said, picking it up and placing it on the counter yet again. ‘Money please.’

Garvin just wanted to hand over the coin, when he saw another line in the book. It read; *the prices are always with the scabbard included.

‘Say, does your sword come with a scabbard?’

‘What? No it doesn’t.’ Rocky answered.

‘Then it must be worth less. Wait. No.’ He tried to figure out how much the scabbard was worth, but there were no extra lines to explain that. ‘Just let me read it again.’

‘Come on, hurry up already!’ Rocky said.

Garvin looked from the book up to the man. Then he saw something moving at the corner of his eye. A man wearing a dirty apron ran to the window, and pointed.

Three familiar guards followed up a second later.

For the second time they busted open the door and charged in. ‘Halt!’

While all that took place, the stranger seemed to internally sigh. He closed his eyes as he breathed out. Then he grabbed the sword from the counter and jumped over to Garvin's side. He placed the sword on his throat. This all in one fluent motion that seemed almost impossibly fast.

The guards that just stormed in, abruptly stopped. Behind them was the man in the dirty apron. ‘He stole my sword!’

Then it dawned Garvin. How could he have been so stupid! Somehow, he spat out a laugh. His abdomen clenched.

‘Dude, its not funny, you could literally die here!’ the man holding a sword at his throat said.

‘I know, its not funny. I am just crying for my bad luck!’

‘Thats it, you’re going down!’ Cobble said.

Rocky raised Garvin from the ground and moved trough the back door. He kicked it close and pushed against it.

‘Is there a way out?’ he asked. ‘A window, staircase, secret tunnel?’

Garvin’s brain was finally kicked back in gear. He stared at his captor with big eyes.

‘I have no idea, this is my first day of working here!’

‘I know. Otherwise I would have been gone by now.This is all your fault. The least you can do, is get me out of here!’

The man pushed with all his weight against the door, though he bounced back a few inches every time the guards banged the door.

‘Open up!’ they yelled.

‘Just a minute!’ Rocky yelled.

Garvin had grabbed a lamp in the meanwhile and searched around.

‘I don’t see anything!’ he panicked.

‘So sorry that I have to do this, then,’ Rocky said. Just between the rhythmic battering of the door, he moved to the side.

The three guards stumbled inside, and almost fell from the sudden ease in which the door opened. Even worse, they almost impaled Garvin while at it.

Shocked, Garvin dropped the oil lamp and watched it burst open. Blue flames followed the trail of oil, right into an old crate.

In the chaos, Rocky managed to move trough the door.

‘Ah come on, not again!’ Rocky yelled from the other side of the door. The guards started banging the other side of door.

‘Fire!’ Garvin yelled. As he charged towards the door.

‘Stop idiots! We need to pull, not push!’ Cobble yelled as the flames spread further to the other crates.

They pulled and the door yanked back with such speed, Garvin never saw it coming. Colours flashed before his eyes as he was thrown back several feet. Dazed he landed on a pile of randomness. Blood gushing out of his nose.

‘Surrender, thief!’ they yelled.

Garvin could see Rocky tackling the blacksmith, the guards on his trail. Then the smoke blurred his vision as he dozed off. His vision went dark. The sounds of the struggle dissipated. Not a single cloud clogged his head. Just pure serenity.